


Fractured Psyche

by writingramblr



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, GQ Edwards!Prison guard, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mental Disintegration, Mental Instability, Oops, darker and sexier, everyone is in love with harley bc reasons, prison abuse of power, this is harley i mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7694833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was becoming everyone's weakness, for some, this was more fatal than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is from a fucking weird ass dream i had after seeing SS and i'm sorry i'm terrible but i loved harley and also scott eastwoods character but he never got a name (in the film but IMDB lists him as Lt. GQ Edwards lmao) so this is an AU where PrettyBoy!Scott is the main prison guard with a sick obsession with Harley.
> 
>  
> 
> very triggery and non-cony so beware.  
> also i was very creeped out by the Joker so there's that.

The white bright lights are blinding, but the music is soothing. Every beat ticks along with her heart, and she can almost pretend she doesn’t ache and hurt and feel cold. Constantly.

After all, they keep her in as much to nothing as they can. There are twin strips of white fabric covering her, one spanning her breasts which are quite nice thank you, and the other forming a makeshift bikini bottom, oh she’s not been to a beach in years, marred by handprints and grease whenever she ends up on the ground.

Her eyes dart around the cell, and the cell walls beyond. She’s surrounded by three layers of bars, and she knows if she got the chance, it wouldn’t be nearly enough to hold her.

She hums to herself and perches back up, gently unwraps the bit around her breasts, and weaves it together with her former pillowcase, and then she’s formed a rope.

Not for a noose. Noooo she’s not leaving this earth without her puddin’ not without that green haired demon who stole her heart.

Noises echo around the room, and she rolls her eyes.

Here comes Mister E who thinks he’s in charge.

A hand rises to her neck, fingering the spot where he _always_ jabs her, and then bites a kiss. It’s very painful, and likely would bruise and never heal, if not for the strange tubs of goo her pudding’ had helped her jump into. Okay she’d fallen. Whatever.

“Harley, my love, what are you doing? Come down from there. You sleep on the floor, no playing around with your cage. You know the rules…”

She bit her lip until it bled, since she’d been robbed of her red lipstick, it was the best she could do. She turned to face the monster and laughed in his face.

“Come in here…tell me that… or are ya gonna give me a toy? I’m so bored.”

Her hands actually itched to wrap around his neck, but instead she gripped the bars and gave him her best calm seductive stare.

He looked at her with his dead eyes, an approximate shade of blue, and smirked,

“I’ll not be falling for that again, last time I gave you anything, you tried to build a bomb and escape.”

Harley pouted, and tilted her head, close to kissing a bar as she could be,

“I just wanna play.”

He glanced around and jerked his head at the men flanking him, and they backed up, turning away, guns still clutched tight in hand.

Oh she’d noticed how they stared, how could they not?

She was half naked and her mermaid length blonde hair never did a good enough job of keeping her covered, then again, most of them had seen her totally naked before.

It fazed them until it didn’t.

None of them would save her anyway.

She’d save herself.

“You’re just the prettiest damn bit of crazy I’ve ever seen, ya know? It is enough to make me pray I never get transferred…and I tell you what, since I run this place, I _won’t._ ”

Then he was reaching in a pocket she never noticed, he had a million of them and the needle was jabbing into her wrist instead.

She screamed, and the lights blurred into one ugly blob as he unlocked the outer gate and climbed into her cell.

Just another demon.

He couldn’t possess her though, someone else already owned her.

Faintly she could feel his hands pawing at her, but she couldn’t move, not quite, it was like trying to swim blindly through ice cold water, and she felt really dizzy.

She could feel him turning her, moving her, pulling and pushing her into the position he wanted, and she wanted to fist her hands into his face, make it stop, end it, but she couldn’t.

“Oh man…I love you.”

His words only made her skin crawl.

It reminded her of the first time she’d tried to escape…

* * *

 

“You let a little girl scare you? Beat up how many of your men? Six? That’s pathetic. Did you ever think to use something other than your guns? Non-lethal I might add. What good is that?”

She was curled into a wet ball on the floor, having tried to flood the cell succeeding in flooding several halls, climbing halfway through a tunnel, before finding a crocodile man at the other end.

She’d promptly waved, then turned and run.

Right into a dozen guards.

So she’d kicked ass before they realized what was happening. Her hair was clinging to her in soaked strings, and her top had come off in the melee, leaving her just in her orange shorts, that she’d torn to a more attractive length, namely like boyshorts.

Very cute.

She laughed, high and loud, and then hiccupped on a giggle.

“They didn’t play very nice with me. Punish them.”

The main guard, the one doing all the yelling and posturing was blonde too, but it was an ugly sort, mixed with brown. He was cute enough, not that she’d tell him.

He wheeled around to face her and gave her a smile, but a colder one than she’d ever seen, even on Mister J.

“You’re right darling. You didn’t even do anything wrong. You just showed me where my weaknesses are.”

He drew something from his belt, and she couldn’t quite focus on it before she knew what it was.

Arcs of lightening danced over her vision, and pain crawled up her spine, making her scream and lose her breath all at once.

She was thrown back flat on the floor, and a bug bit her neck, stinging her skin.

Needle.

Fuck.

Arms lifted her off the ground and she was being carried, sweetly, gently almost back to her cell.

She couldn’t kick out, couldn’t fight. Couldn’t even make a joke. What had they done to her?

Pain flared up in her knees as she hit the ground, cool and unyielding.

Her cell.

Great.

“You promise not to do that again?”

The voice, the voice of the man who’d hit her with electricity.

“Nope.”

She managed to spit out, and then he was hitting her again for real.

A slap on the cheek.

Then he smacked her ass.

“Don’t touch me creep.”

She said.

Or thought she did.

He was just looming over her still, leering.

Mister J did that too, but at least it was cute on him.

This man might have been cute, but he also looked cruel.

She decided he would die first. When she got out. Which she would.

“I’ll touch you all I want. You need to learn to behave…Harley.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, but they didn’t obey her brains commands.

The fuck?

“Hold still now, give us a kiss.”

What a joke. She couldn’t move if she wanted to!

He tasted awful, like cigarettes and garbage. Did he eat trash? Maybe he bathed in it.

No.

That wasn’t true.

She was just making that up.

“Whole lot of pretty, and a whole lot of crazy.”

He whispered to her, his hands in her hair, tugging til it hurt.

She never winced, never let him see he got to her.

He was horrible though, and his hands were slimy on her skin. Or maybe that was the water…

After that, it became a regular thing.

Until the Devil came.

Harley took the gig, because it meant fresh air, and it meant freedom soon.

Mister E had stopped _seeing_ her, and she knew there was only one power on earth to scare that guard.

Her mouth quirked into a smile even when she touched the bars and they screamed right back in her ear, slamming her on the ground.

She was pulled out of her cell and shoved in a chair, more needles jammed in her neck, but it didn’t matter.

_He was coming for her._

She told the fool that he’d fucked up.

He kept calling her name, sounding more panicked each time.

She just kept smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 2.

Harley Quinn always gets what she wants.

Sure, after thinking about it, maybe an espresso machine hadn’t been such a good idea, for even with a new comfy-ish mattress to sleep on, after a few drinks, she couldn’t sleep for days.

The adrenaline rush from the fight had worn off, and she came back to the same old thought. Mister J was dead.

Her puddin’ was gone.

She would be left alone, rotting in the same old gilded cage, now with new accessories, until the Squad was needed again.

But at least she didn’t have to worry about Mister E. He left her good and alone. That’s how she wanted it. The padding of the mattress was soft under her as she sat, leaning against the bars behind her, reading the trashy romance Floyd had snuck her, and sipping her fifth, or was it fourth tiny cup of coffee.

That shit was strong and addictive as hell.

She set the cup down to flip to a new page, and a thundering sort of BOOM startled her.

The book fell to the floor, and the cup and saucer rattled beside her as the whole room seemed to shake. She instantly fell into a fighting sort of stance, and shots rang out while black clad soldiers or guards filled the room.

Okay they were shooting the guards, so maybe not guards too.

Three more approached her cell and there was a saw screaming right in front of her, then she was screaming too.

This was not how her afternoon was supposed to go. Not relaxing at all, and all the caffeine she’d consumed had put her on a seriously sharp edge, mixing with her new meds as it did.

One man in black walked right into her cell, stopped short, and tugged off the gasmask. Her eyes focused on the white lettering across his chest just a second before the pale face, red lips and dangerous eyes came into view.

He ran at her and she pounced right back.

“PUDDIN’!”

SHE KNEW HE WASN’T DEAD!

He couldn’t have left her for long.

“Time to go home.”

He whispered in her ear, and she nodded at once, before asking.

“What about Mister E? Can you take care of him real good? Make sure he doesn’t do anymore trouble?”

She pouted at him as he scooped her into his arms and began to carry her out of her cell, flanked on all sides by his armed minions.

“What sort of trouble has he been giving you sugar?”

Harley wasn’t ready to put words to it, as he’d been pretty nasty. Though he had passed along the phone needed to attempt her first rescue…she didn’t trust him one bit.

“He hit me.”

She finally managed, with a full on grimace and she pointed to a scar on her neck, “Constantly jabbing things in my neck too.”

Mister J looked furious, and if he was ever angry, oh whoever he was angry at was gonna pay.

“You can believe me, he won’t be employed here any longer, he won’t be employed anywhere except where the fishies swim.”

She blinked at him, nearly giddy with delight,

“Really? You’ll get rid of him?”

Mister J purred before kissing her soundly on the cheek.

“Anyone hurts who my property has gotta pay for it. Now come on, let’s blow this joint.”

She didn’t see where he got ‘em, but he tossed a good handful of grenades behind them, at her old cell as they cut a path through the remaining guards, out of the prison walls, to a waiting chopper.

It wasn’t until they were airborne, well on their way home that Harley realized she hadn’t gotten to tell Floyd goodbye.

Maybe Mister J would let her write to him, like the little daughter that always did, of course, she was his friend, not family.

Home, safe and sound, and drinking grape soda til her head spun, still she wondered, Diablo had called the Squad his family, so it wasn’t too wild or crazy to think of them like that herself.

Her Puddin’ kissed her breathless and almost thoughtless, and he was undressing her, tossing away the hideous orange and white grey prison clothes, telling her about her brand new wardrobe he’d fixed up, but the first thing she spotted that she wanted was a dress the color of blood, darker than her lipstick, and beautiful but practical.

“I want that one.”

She pointed, and he grinned, his teeth winking at her in the firelight.

“Excellent choice. You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

He pulled her close, into his arms again for another kiss, but Harley was confused.

“We going to a party or somethin’?”

His teeth were almost blinding, and his laughter echoed in her ears,

“Oh yes. We’ve got an occasion to crash. It’s high time to get back at the Bat for ruining our date a few years back, don’t you think?”

Harley giggled, and then nodded.

This was going to be fun.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> harley's dress that didn't feature in the movie but is in reality quite cute  
> http://www.hottopic.com/product/dc-comics-suicide-squad-harley-quinn-red-dress/10636721.html


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oops what have i done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has gone down a very AU and semi-fluffy possible road...

The room was overflowing with booze, laughter, and money. Well, two out of three were actually visible…er hearable, the rest, not so much, but Harley trusted what her Puddin told her. If they were there for the Bats money, then she was happy. She loved any occasion to dress up, and bring her favorite pistol, the love/hate marked white gold and black one, holstered on her thigh, just below the red swirls of her dress.

She wasn’t sure what Bruce Wayne’s fancy house had to do with Batsy, but she was up for whatever. Mister J kept her on his arm the entire time they snuck in, masked by a crowd, and indeed, masks. Her’s was a kitty, white haired with black fur in the ears and a pink button nose.

Mister J had on a mask of a snake, very fitting with his still green hair, and it helped him blend in, wild as he always appeared when out on the street, or anywhere but his club.

She pouted as he twirled her around the dancefloor, counting softly in her ear, purring even, as to when the real party would start.

“Why couldn’t I do my hair puddin’?”

Her hair was usually multiple colors, but he’d insisted she keep it the plain white blonde for the party and since it had faded from him rescuing her out of prison.

He told her originally he missed her old hair style and wanted it back.

Now he said something different.

“You’d give us away too soon and we don’t want that do we? My boys need thirty more seconds, then we’re gonna light this party up and have some real fun.”

Hidden behind her mask, as she took in the view of all the guests, she spotted one particularly handsome fella.

She wasn’t one to let her eyes wander, not when she had her Puddin back, but there was a time, short lived as it was, when she’d thought he was dead, so she’d noticed the boys she’d been running around with, wreaking havoc.

Deadshot, or Floyd, had been her first pick, but the fact he had family of his own already meant they couldn’t never really work out. She was still sad she hadn’t seen him since Mister J had broken her out.

Then there had been the man on fire, Diablo himself. But again, he had some heavy baggage he was still learning to carry. That left her with exactly…no second options.

Except maybe the Bat himself.

She giggled to herself as she remembered the kiss she’d borrowed, with no intention of giving back.

That had been fun, until he’d driven her to the prison, and dropped her into several levels of hell. She stopped laughing. She still hadn’t told Mister J what all Mister E had done. She knew he’d taken care of him. Given him concrete shoes and served a hot knuckle sandwich, but she was almost afraid to tell him what else he should’ve gotten.

A kick square in the balls.

Back to the fella in all black, and with dark and sad eyes, Harley swooned, just a little. In her old therapy days, before Mister J, she might have wanted him just for the challenge of cheering him up. Now she only had one objective, cheer Mister J up.

Not that he got down often, well, in his mood. She giggled again.

Speaking of _that_ , when he’d gotten her home and out of those nasty prison clothes, he’d thrown her on the bearskin rug and gone to town for at least an hour.

Her legs were still sore.

Then he’d run a bath for her and she’d not let him leave her side.

It was nice how nice he’d been to her.

Oh, he was dipping her, it was the signal.

Flashbombs snapped and popped and the air was smoky in a heartbeat, a blink.

The pretty man in the black suit moved to action, yelling at people to get out, orderly to the doors, but her Puddin’ had gun armed thugs at all of them.

“You’re not going ANYwhere pal.”

Mister J roared, before letting out a cackle.

He let go of her, and she spun around, landing on her hands, and knees, as always, but she was a little annoyed he hadn’t warned her.

He ripped off his mask and revealed his face to the party goers, some of whom shrieked in terror.

The man in the black suit was the only one remaining calm. Harley decided she liked him.

All the other people’s screaming was just getting to be soooo annoying.

“Shut up ya mouths.” She drew out her pistol from her thigh, pulled off her own mask for dramatic effect before beaming, “Or I’ll plug ya.”

She finished with a waggle of her eyebrows at the man in black, and she knew Mister J hadn’t seen her.

“Now, Mister Wayne, I think you know why we’re here…take us to the Bat cave!”

Harley frowned slightly, turning to eye her love, and he looked quite pointedly at the man in black in front of them.

The pretty guy was Bruce Wayne?

Oops.

*

Bad didn’t even begin to cover it. Things had just gone from that, down the cliff of insanity and towards drowning in despair.

Bruce walked carefully and steadily away from the party, for every step he took meant more time to allow guests to safety, and the police were alerted, for Alfred had been in the kitchen, heard every word, and been hidden and smart enough to trigger the silent alarm.

It flashed only on Bruce’s watch, and it was a subtle enough thing to be unnoticed. Unless you were batshit crazy.

He smiled tightly at his own pun, and then felt the nudge of a barrel against his back.

“Keep it moving sweetcheeks, don’t make me hurt ya.”

Harley Quinn.

He hadn’t seen her in a good handful of months, nearly since the day he’d dropped her off in Belle Reve. She looked good, still nuts, and short a few marbles, but quite lovely.

Too bad she was aiming a gun at him that could potentially blow his head off if she felt inclined. He got the sense she didn’t quite know as much as her paramour did. The look of bewilderment, more so than usual, had tipped him off when the Joker first began threatening him.

“Well, here we are.”

He finally turned around to face the two, the partners in crime, the clown prince and his queen. Harley looked around with unbridled awe and he felt a little pleased, on some level, but then the Joker was just leering at him, in that strange manner that made him look more sharklike and less human by the moment.

“How lovely. I see you kept my calling card from dear sweet Robin.”

Bruce nodded, and he saw Harley focus on him again, with that little crinkle between her brows.

“Huh?”

Joker turned away from Bruce, a fatal mistake, to inform his lady love.

“This is Batman. Bruce…Batman. They’re one in the same. Two sides of the same bitter coin. The thorn in our side.”

Bruce had already flicked the button and primed the dart on his watch when Joker finally turned back to him, amateur really, and he smiled tightly.

“I think you’ve got it backwards, I’m _your_ thorn. Your justice. Your end.”

He lunged at Joker, who was standing just close enough to be dangerously within reach, and within seconds, he’d jammed the watch pin into the clown’s neck, while parrying the gun leveled at him with his arm, secretly covered by his Suit gauntlets, made of stronger than steel fibers, which might have given a little bit of nerve damage along with the stunning serum he’d just been injected with.

The Joker dropped like a stone, but not without a strange sort of frown on his face, leaving Bruce alone to face Harley.

She had never looked so scared before, not even on the clips where he’d seen her interacting with Waller. The gun was hanging limply in her hand, and she was just staring at the Joker’s unconscious form.

“You knocked out my Puddin…”

Her bottom lip wobbled, and she then looked at him, instantly leveling the gun to his chest. He also wore bulletproof armor underneath his fancy tuxedo, but she didn’t need to know that. He raised both hands slowly,

“I had to Harley. He killed my friend. I’m just doing what’s right.”

Her hands shook on the weapon, and her stance faltered somewhat. He couldn’t help but notice just how beautiful she looked, no longer deadly or simply an accessory to her crazy clown’s crimes.

Sure, she’d technically been a part of ‘Robin’s death, but how involved could she really be? She was certifiable.

“I should kill you for him…he’d be so proud of me…”

She whispered, eyes darting to the Joker once more, before lifting to Bruce.

“He would? That’s what it would take to make him proud? C’mon Harley…think about this, he doesn’t really love you. You’re just a possession to him. He loses you, and then he needs you. He has you, and then what? He gets so bored he has to come harass a poor guy like me.”

Harley was considering it, slightly, he could see her face as it ran through a myriad of emotions.

“But…you’re Batman! You’re our enemy…right?”

Bruce shook his head, throwing all caution to the winds, a hail mary.

“I’m not him. I just work for him. Batman’s accountant…that’s me. You didn’t really believe him did you? He lies a lot. Big things, small things, it’s his favorite thing to do.”

“What? No…he wouldn’t…not to me…”

Harley dropped her arms, one hand still clinging feebly to the gun, and her entire body seemed to slump. Oh it was bad, so wrong to do that to her, but he really needed her help, he couldn’t afford to let her think of him as an enemy.

“He does it to everyone.”

Her eyes were suddenly full of tears, and her bottom lip, still covered in perfectly bright red lipstick quivered.

“You won’t let anyone know…that I let you get away?”

Bruce shook his head.

“Of course not. But there are police coming here, now, they might even be here already.” He glanced up to the ceiling, and Harley instantly cringed, collapsing into herself, curling into a ball on the ground beside, but not touching, the Joker.

“You won’t let them take me back there…I can’t go back there.”

Bruce sighed heavily and he knew what he had to do.

“Of course not. You’ve been so good, so helpful. If you promise to stay out of trouble, you can put your mask back on, and I’ll carry…him back upstairs so the police can apprehend him. Then you’ll be free.”

Harley burst out of the stance she’d been in so fast he thought for sure she was about to attack him, but instead, she jumped in his arms, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you! But I can’t leave, I’ve been staying with my Puddin’. I have nowhere else to go!”

She pulled back from where she’d buried her head into his shoulder, and looked up at him with those wide blue eyes, perfectly lined with black and blue and red, and he felt his heart clench.

Innocent and pure were not words anyone with brains would use to describe Harley Quinn, but in that moment, he wanted to do nothing more but protect her with every fiber of his being. It was a bad idea, but what wasn’t?

“You can stay here.”

She blinked,

“Are ya sure?”

Bruce nodded,

“I’ll…uh…make it okay with the boss.”

He smiled slightly, and knew it would really be Alfred who’d need convincing upon the idea of helping shelter a known criminal.

“Really? Oh gosh that would be the best!”

She hugged him tightly again, and that time, he let himself hug her back. He could hear the sirens now, even from in the Batcave, so he knew Gotham PD must have been on their A-Game. Nearly all the guests must have been speed dialing them.

Joker’s men would be outnumbered, and they’d all be going away for a very long time. In the meantime…

Bruce Wayne hosting Harley Quinn…what could go wrong?

*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO THANKS TO A CERTAIN FRIEND/ENABLER HERE'S SOME MORE OF BRUCE AND HARLEY.
> 
>  
> 
> and lots of smut because reasons.
> 
> and clark. because i love him.

Harley had been in the mansion for a few weeks and she woke up in the middle of the night, as you do, when you’ve spent the last couple years in jail sleeping on the floor, in the air, or not at all, and she wandered downstairs, hoping to find Bruce awake too, maybe hunting for a midnight snack in the fancy ass kitchen.

She arrived in the room, overwhelmingly chrome and silver and black marble, and found it empty. Not even the Butler Alfred was around or awake at the late hour. How disappointing.

She poured a cup of milk into a glass picture and put in the microwave for a good minute and a half, then located the vanilla, right where she remembered, and leaned against the counter, impatiently awaiting the beep of the machine.

Something flashed outside, on the lawn, and she was instantly distracted from the milk. The security of Wayne Manor was unparalleled, so if someone had gotten as close as the lawn they were either really good, or really bad.

She wasn’t sure which was more exciting, but she didn’t have her baseball bat, or even a pistol handy, so she slinked to a wall by a window, staying mostly out of sight. Just clad in her usual pink and blue sleep pants and tank top, she wasn’t really dressed for a fight either.

Then there was a sudden knocking in the front door, just as the microwave beeped, announcing her milk was ready. Screaming might have been an overreaction, but she couldn’t help it.

“It’s okay! I come in peace. It’s me, Clark…er, I know it’s late, and I apologize-“

Harley rushed to flip open the locks and yanked the door open so fast her shoulder muscled ached in protest.

“Supes! I didn’t know you were coming ova tonight! Bruce didn’t tell me to expect you.”

Clark, or Superman, as he was better known to the world and the press, had performed a miraculous recovery from well, death, in the last month, and had been working closely with Bruce and Batman, forming some kind of hero team, an answer to the Suicide Squad, in a way, a more above board operation, and also in preparation for what Bruce had called, the Darkness.

Very ominous and ridiculous and Harley had laughed, until she saw how serious his face had been.

“Yes, uh, is Bruce home? Or Batman?”

He smiled uneasily, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of her, or something else. She suspected a lie, ever since the first night she’d caught, or met, Bruce coming home with scrapes and bruises and a bleeding lip, that she had not gotten to inflict.

They hadn’t really done anything of note, come to think of it, and it was pissing her off. She’d been pretty obvious the first night they met, she thought, and now, she was _living_ with him, and he’d never once cracked. Never asked her to have dinner with him, never told her anything sweet, and never once tripped up when she accidentally wandered in on him just out of the shower.

He was nice, yes, always saying Good morning or good evening, when he was around, and he did share meals with her, he couldn’t not, but it wasn’t the same.

Maybe Clark was just the sort of push she needed.

“He’s out, vigilante-y-ing, but I suspect he’ll be back before dawn. Want to hang out with me? I was just making some warm milk. I couldn’t sleep.”

Clark looked at her, down from where he’d been craning his neck, perhaps hoping Bruce had been hiding behind her, or further down the hall, as he did, a perfect curl fell across his forehead, and with his blue eyes focused into hers, she felt like swooning.

“All right. I do need to speak with him. So I’ll be happy to keep you company while I wait.”

Then there was that megawatt smile, and she was stepping aside to have something to do, to concentrate on not falling backwards. Not that she was unsure he would catch her in time, she just…didn’t want that to happen.

She’d end up kissing him, and then the entire thing would be wasted because Bruce wouldn’t have seen and gotten jealous.

If you kissed Superman and no one saw it, did it happen?

Yes, yes it did, but Harley wasn’t going to scare him off just yet.

“So, what’s your poison?”

She asked him, shooting for conversational as she pulled her now cooled milk out of the microwave, and stirred a spoonful of honey and drop of vanilla in it anyway.

“Um, well that would be kryptonite. But you don’t have that in liquid form do you?”

He chuckled, and Harley was unable to resist looking over at him, catching him just as the laughter faded, and he was looking rather sheepish.

“We have absinthe, but that’s not quite as deadly. Same color though.”

She beamed at him, and he blushed.

Iowa farm boy indeed.

Or Kansas, whatever.

His plush lips parted, as if he was about to croon something, when there was a loud crash, a slamming of a door, and Harley’s glass of milk slipped out of her hands.

But before it could shatter on the tile, Clark had snatched it out of the air, and was setting it on the counter beside her.

“Thank you.”

She murmured, and the loud stomping they could both hear was growing closer.

It had to be Bruce and Clark actually moved to step in front of her, as if she was in danger.

“Clark! What…are you doing here? Harley…you’re still up?”

Bruce was sweaty, as if he’d run ten miles in a very quick amount of time, or hung upside down, befitting a bat.

Harley still found herself wanting to lick the side of his face.

Liar or not, he was incredibly appealing, and come to think of it, so was Clark.

‘Carry me up to bed and ravish me.’

She thought, eyeing the curl still perched over Clark’s temple.

“Harley! What are you talking about?”

Oops.

She’d said that aloud.

It was hard to tell with all the voices sometimes.

“Sorry…but I haven’t been up. I got up because I couldn’t sleep. And you weren’t here.”

She pouted heavily in Bruce’s direction, and she saw his dark eyes soften.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I had some errands to run. I uh,”

He exchanged a glance with Clark, who in turn stepped aside, and eyed Harley.

She smirked.

“How long are we going to play this game? Bruce…I know you’re Batman. You’ve been lying to me to protect me since day one. This bullshit needs to stop. I’m not some fragile reporter, or lawyer, or your secretary, I can take very good care of myself. You need to relax. We can have a mad and wild affair, and it’s not going to end with me dead in a ditch somewhere. Besides, if the Joker wants to get to you, kidnapping me isn’t gonna do shit, am I right?”

She cocked her hip, one hand on it, and her head tilted, as she watched Bruce carefully.

Clark looked very uncomfortable, and he crossed his arms over his chest, accidentally making his muscled pecs seem to threaten to jump out of his suit.

Harley’s eyes dipped over to eye them for a handful of seconds, and that’s all she’d need to touch them really, before darting back to Bruce.

He finally sighed.

“Harley…you’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied. That makes me no better than…Joker.”

Clark was still glancing back and forth between them, and she wondered if maybe she should do something, to sort of break the tension.

So she did.

She stepped right over to Clark, threw her arms around his neck, before he could know to stop her, and planted a big fat kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks for helping me out.”

She winked at him, and watched as he staggered a little, stepping back from her, and she made her way over to Bruce now, who was blinking, somewhat in shock.

“I uh,”

He stammered, a very un-Bruce-like thing to do, and Harley swaggered closer, hips swaying and eyes lidded, and she licked her lips.

“Harley…you know it’s late, you should get back to bed.”

She knew how that thought ended, so he and Clark could go talk business. Well, too bad. They could do that any night. She was sick of their dancing around. She was done playing. She wanted to be caught.

“Take me to bed Bruce.”

She stopped short, right in front of him, barely room to breathe between their bodies, and she could smell him. He smelled like fresh night air, a bit of salt and smoke, and something else, utterly _masculine_.

She saw his throat move as he swallowed, and his eyes never left hers.

“If that’s what you w-”

“Yes.”

No room for arguing, no thinking, no second chancing it.

She wanted him, she wanted him in her bed, and she wanted it yesterday.

*

Bruce was completely lost, lost in the haze of blue that were Harley’s eyes, and he wasn’t about to say no to such a willing and deliriously beautiful partner.

He’d been very careful around her, and tried to avoid making her ever feel crowded, as she was in his home, and he wanted her to feel safe.

But the last couple times she’d walked in on him nearly naked but for the towel slung carelessly around his hips, he’d begun to suspect it was less than accidental.

“Carry me.”

She’d mentioned something a few minutes ago about wanting to be taken back upstairs and…ravaged was it?

But he scooped her into his arms, easily, she didn’t weigh a thing it seemed, and she beamed at him, resting her cheek against his chest, as he threw Clark an apologetic glance.

Harley hummed as she snuggled against him, and he walked them towards the staircase and planned to head for his room, but then again, maybe she would prefer her own bed?

“No. Your room. You need a shower.”

Bruce glanced down at her, and couldn’t help a wry smile.

“You planning on joining me Princess?”

Harley giggled,

“Nope. I’m going to warm the bed for you, awaiting you.”

Bruce was mildly surprised, but then again, she was never known for her predictability.

“Finally you’ll get an honest look at me after a shower.”

He mused, and she snorted another giggle.

“Yep you got me. I was really just hoping to catch you, or maybe startle you enough to make you drop the towel.”

Bruce felt heat crawl down his spine, and he wondered if he’d be able to resist kissing her before he took that shower.

“You were very clever. What made you decide you liked me anyway? Thought you would be more mad at me…”

Harley crooned,

“I can’t be mad when you’re so handsome…delicious looking too. Promise you won’t be long?”

They’d arrived, and Bruce gently dropped her onto his bed, before backing away, knowing the second he started kissing and touching her he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, unless she did,

“I promise. I’m usually in and out in five minutes.”

He winced as soon as the words passed over his tongue and he saw her eyes light up.

“Let’s hope not.”

She winked at him and he groaned the instant he was out of earshot and could began discarded the protective gear and undersuit.

“That was brilliant.”He mumbled to himself, climbing in and under the hot water, blasting out of the showerhead and suitably soaking him and washing away the grim and sweat in less time than he’d thought.

He swiped a handful of shampoo through his hair and ran a soapy washcloth over his body, attempting to be thorough as well as quick.

By the time he’d gotten out of the shower, quick though it had been, there was steam fogging up the mirror in the bathroom, and his towel was almost warm.

He walked back out to his bedroom to find a most alluring sight. Harley was naked, laying atop the many pillows and the comforter.

“Hiya. Gonna drop that towel for me now?”

She said, a sultry tone to her voice, and he couldn’t hold back a grin, even as his eyes danced over her body, miles and miles of pale creamy skin, bared before him.

“If you want.”

“Yes.”

All right.

The towel went, and with it, his final doubts.

*

Harley could feel the steam leaking out from the bathroom, but it was still chilly enough to make her nipples perk to points, and she saw Bruce’s eyes, as subtle as he’d been trying to be, widen.

Her own eyes were drawn to the perfect v cut of his hips, and the line of dark hair from his navel to the patch at the top of his cock and it made her mouth almost water.

He was already half hard, so she knew he hadn’t taken any time to touch himself in the shower, and she just grinned wider as he began to approach.

She sat up, and posed, one knee bent to hide her breasts somewhat, and her arms braced around it, hugging herself.

“Are you going to ravish me now?”

She asked, a hint of a tease to her voice, and she saw his eyes darken.

“Absolutely.”

He practically growled, his tone shooting right to her core.

Oh she was wet for him enough as it was, but that, that was verging on his Batman voice, and she _loved_ it.

It was a secret she’d been harboring for a long time, and she’d been delighted to find the way events had conspired to lead her to such an occurrence.

His palm was rough, calloused and still warm from the heat of the water, but gentle as he stroked her face, and cupped her face, before leaning down to close the distance, capturing her lips with a kiss full of a fierce sort of heat she’d been dreaming of.

She had been aching for a kiss, a touch, any kind or sort of attention from him, and here it was, so many long lonely nights with just her right hand culminating in a moment that would shine in her memory for as long as she could cling to it.

Also kissing Superman on the cheek, that had been nice.

Bruce slowly ramped up the intensity of the kiss, sweetly asking for permission to touch her with tentative grazes of his thumb on her shoulders, and she answered by reaching blindly to grasp his cock, and he jumped under her hand.

“Well then…”

He chuckled, almost darkly.

She couldn’t wait to hear how he sounded when he came.

Five minutes would be more than enough time for her to rile him up.

“C’mere.”

She beckoned him with a finger with her free hand, and laid back further on the bed, legs parting somewhat, and he took the invitation, crawling over her and looming above her, but not intimidating.

He couldn’t scare her if he tried.

He’d just turn her on more if he growled again.

“What do you need?”

He was asking her, lips traveling from her jaw down her neck, his teeth nibbling on her skin, but not roughly at all.

In fact, he was being overall, too gentle with her. Yes she was damaged goods and yes she was recovering from a horrific sort of relationship, but she wasn’t made of glass dammit.

“I need you, to fuck me. Like, hard.”

Bruce pulled back and looked her right in the eye, licking his lips, and she did swoon, a little.

“Are you sure you want to jump into things so fast? I mean, I’m in no rush.”

Harley sighed, and shrugged,

“I thought you just asked me a question mister.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened, and he smiled a little like a smirk,

“If that’s what my lady wants…”

He moved off of her, fumbling with a bedside drawer, and she sighed.

“I don’t think you need any of that. I’m pretty much ruined for motherhood. Acid bath and all.”  


She held up an arm, admiring her nearly white skin in the dim light from the bathroom, for that was all that was illuminating the room.

Bruce was instantly at her side, taking her arm in his hand, and bringing it to his mouth, placing and scattering kisses over her skin.

“You’re beautiful, otherworldly, and I’m very sorry.”

“It’s no great loss. Kids are annoying, and Mister J would never…”

She trailed off, and bit her lip, looking away from him.

She hadn’t used his name like that in a long time.

It was probably better. He didn’t deserve her.

Didn’t deserve to be named like some sort of prince.

She was a queen though.

But she liked when Bruce called her a princess.

“Harley…are you okay?”

So concerned. So sweet.

It was adorable, and rather hot.

“Bruce…I’m great, naked, under a naked playboy Bruce Wayne. I’m peachy. If he would just touch me, I’d be better.”

His hand slipped from her shoulder to her breast, teasing, and then slid on beyond, grazing the soft curve of her hip, and then he was poised between her legs, fingers playing with the soft blonde hairs there.

“Like this?”

Harley licked her lips, and nodded,

“A little more. I think you know.”

He did.

Playboys had plenty of experience with ladies, and not just bragging about it.

After she’d came, and lost the urge to giggle so much as gasp, he collapsed beside her, claiming he was getting old, and needed a moment to rest his hand, and tongue.

Harley traced a hand over his body, enjoying her turn to explore him, and she paused, leaning across his chest, and she saw a scar that looked like a puckered kiss from a bullet.

“Ouch.”

His hand lazily tapped against her hip, and there was a similar mark there, from before the bath. It had never quite healed.

“Yeah. I got on the wrong end of a criminal with an itchy trigger finger. Before I had Lucius’ tech. Before I knew what I was doing.”

Harley moved closer, and ducked down to place a real kiss over the mark.

“There, now its all better.”

It was a child’s fable, a wish, a beautiful lie, but she saw how his smile brightened.

Then again, maybe it was from her other hand sliding down to wrap around his cock. He had to have been in some kind of pain, from waiting and just worshiping her.

Her thumb grazed over the tip, where he was slick, and she dropped it, bringing her hand to her mouth, absentmindedly deciding she needed a taste.

She’d certainly waited long enough.

He groaned, and she looked over at him.

“What?”

Bruce sighed,

“You don’t give an old man a lot of chance to relax when you do shit like that.”

She smirked.

“Sorry.”

Her hand was back on him, and he had to know she wasn’t really sorry.

When his arms finally regained some strength, one found her ass, cupping and squeezing the cheek he could reach, and the other hand tangled in her hair, carefully holding it back from her face as she drew him into her mouth, and his fingers only tightened a little when she rubbed her tongue against the underside of his cock head.

“Harley…princess, I’m really close…”

He breathed, sounding very much at the cusp, and she just smiled around his cock in her mouth, and kept going.

They weren’t going to be doing this for just five minutes, she was going to stay in his bed all night if she could manage it.

She had been right.

His growly voice when he came was just as sexy as his Batman voice, maybe a hint more so. There was an air of desperation and resolution that would never be heard in the suit.

“Oh god…”

She crawled back up the length of his body, and let him pull her into his arms, into a horizontal sort of embrace.

Entirely non-sexual. Never mind the fact she was none too subtly rubbing against his thigh.

“That was just as fun as I imagined.”

She crooned, stroking a hand through his hair, still damp from the shower.

His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be meditating, or something of the sort.

“Harley, you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? This is all some wonderfully inventive way to do it, I won’t protest, but that’s what happening.”

She drew a circle, and then a small bat on the damp skin of his chest, right over his heart, and shrugged,

“Maybe.”

“But what a way to go…”

He squeezed her a bit tighter, and then relaxed again, seemingly falling back into his meditation.

Harley didn’t mind. It was nice, naked cuddling.

She’d never done anything like it before.

Her toes were prodding against his feet, not wanting to be cold, so she moved slightly, planning to pull a blanket over them, and he kept a hand on her waist,

“Where are you going?”

It was really sweet, he was almost concerned.

“Just a second…”

She grunted a little with the effort of untucking it from the fancy perfect way it had been, but successfully tugged a red velvet throw over most of their bodies.

“There.”

She curled back up against his chest, and his hand found her hair again, stroking softly.

“You’re just so damn loveable. It’s going to be hard not to fall for you.”

Bruce finally said, and Harley felt something clam up her throat.

“What?”

 She managed to gasp out.

“Isn’t it obvious? I kept myself away from you, away from the house even, as much as I could without being rude, because I was afraid.”

Harley sat up, and pushed back from him, getting a better look at him.

She had been a psychologist, she could read people still, even if it took a little more concentration.

Clark radiated pure white light and goodness and stupid boy scoutish things, where Bruce was darkness, danger, and a grey sort of justice.

He was also selfless, kind, and thoughtful, it seemed, but more than that, he was _sensitive_.

His soul was not bent on destruction.

Now she _really_ wanted to fuck him.

“Bruce…”

She asked in her most sultry rasp, and he instantly was paying attention.

Downstairs and upstairs.

“I want you to make love to me. If you want.”

Bruce blinked, and then smiled, so warmly she swore she could feel it in her fingertips and toes.

“I can do that.”

His palms warmed her thighs next, smoothing over her skin, pulling her against him, over him. He wanted her on top.

She smiled back, and pressed her palms into the bed on either side of his head,

“Tell me when you’re close.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“You’re not going to get me off again so fast.”

Harley winked as she climbed atop him, rubbing her throbbing clit over his hardening cock.

“Don’t be so sure.”

She lifted up just enough to reach between her legs and line him up, and then the instant she sank down, taking him as deep as she could, she heard him groan again.

She smirked inwardly, and she knew she’d win the bet.

*

Bruce hadn’t been planning on any of what had already happened, nor what was currently happening, namely, Harley enthusiastically riding his cock and nearly driving him out of his goddamn mind.

Every so often, when he hit a particularly good spot inside of her, she’d make a little breathy moan, or gasp in surprise, and his hands only tightened on her hips.

He wouldn’t be able to leave bruises for long, but he almost wished he could.

She deserved to have marks of love, of the strange adoration and fascination he held for her. Although, perhaps she’d gotten enough of that sort of thing…before.

He didn’t bring it up, and when she leaned down to kiss him, still moving her hips over him perfectly, he kissed her as deeply as he could.

She tasted like strawberries and chaos.

She’d been right after all, and it took more than a monumental amount of effort to fight off the urge to let his second orgasm wash over him, and leave him fully sated and somewhat exhausted, but he was determined to get her off first, if he couldn’t prolong it all for them.

His hand slipped up from her hip to between her legs, where their bodies were enjoined, and she was delightfully slick. His other hand moved up to palm one of her perfect breasts, and she let out another breathy sort of sigh. He couldn’t hold back a growl of his own.

His thumb pressed against her, feeling for the nub that would ease her right into another climax, and she gasped suddenly.

“You’re cheating.”

Bruce grinned, but when she clenched around him, her seemingly wicked inner muscles distracted him slightly.

“FUCK”

“That’s the idea, yes.”

She ground hard against him, and shuddered, and he could feel the ripples of her orgasm overtake her.

The aftershocks were just enough to drag him under, and he found himself biting his lip to keep from calling out her name with what he knew would be a frightening amount of fondness.

She collapsed on top of him, and he pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead, as she curled against his side, sliding off of him, and likely making a mess of his perfect bed, but he couldn’t give a flying fuck.

He had one.

He smiled lazily, and rubbed her back slowly,

“How was that?”

He couldn’t help asking.

She’d requested it, after all.

“It was nice. I did feel pretty loved.”

His heart clenched in his chest for a moment, before it resumed beating normally.

She had?

“I’m glad to hear that.”

A soft sort of giggle rose up,

“The pleasure was all mine though.”

He looked over to see her grinning, and he knew he’d been beaten.

“Well, maybe not all.”

He slept well that night, and by the morning, he’d almost forgotten about Clark.

Until Harley pulled him out of bed and down to the kitchen for breakfast, and they both came upon the man himself, curled up on the massive living room couch, seemingly having slept under his cape.

“Oops.”

Harley giggled, and elbowed him in the ribs.

“That’s my catchphrase.”

He grinned over at her.

“Want to wake him up?”

Harley looked positively delighted.

“Yes!”

He was too, amused at least, until she walked over and planted a kiss right on his mouth.

“Uh, that’s not what I m-“

“Bruce! Oh god, did I fall asleep?”

Clark looked appropriately embarrassed, and Harley crouched down beside him, her hand reaching out to stroke back a lock of hair from his forehead…why was he letting her baby Superman?

He stopped himself the second his mouth opened to tell her what to do, and he realized that no, he was _not_ going to be another one of those bossy men in her life.

He just needed some strong coffee.

Especially if she kept talking to Clark in that tone of voice.

Make that iced coffee.

*

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is always room for more but not on this story. it would be a separate entity if harley/bruce/clark were to ever have any shenanigans. 
> 
> maybe a modern college no powers AU where Joker is Harley's abusive boyfriend, and Clark lives across the hall and wants to save her, and Bruce is his rich friend ala peter x harry. 
> 
>  
> 
> yeah see im trash.


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